


I Don't Wanna Be Friends

by seishine



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: BokuAka Day, Domestic Fluff, Drunk Akaashi Keiji, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, They're both dumb but anyways, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29435730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seishine/pseuds/seishine
Summary: "So there's this, um... person,""I don't wanna be friends with them anymore."Huh?Bokuto was confused, this certainly wasn't the direction he was aiming for. He wonders who it might be though.It can't possibly be him, right?"Why... why not? Did something happen?" Bokuto queried, ever curious eyes anticipating his reply."Nothing, really." Not-even-there breaths pierce through the screen, voice sounding a little tight. "Just feels wrong to fall in love with a friend, after all.""Not at all?!" which came out like a shout, borderline defensive.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 5
Kudos: 87





	I Don't Wanna Be Friends

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by this one iwaoi ive read here!! i forgot the title but it was a good read

Bokuto doesn't remember the time where Akaashi rang him first.

Heck, he rarely even gets the guy to pick up the phone either—maybe after 32 unread text messages and 10 missed calls, but Akaashi never really answers unless it's an emergency or when he's run out of excuses to avoid a conversation. The guy really wasn't techie, to begin with; his phone serves more of a pastime—he likes to watch and read stuff, Bokuto noticed, and an accessory left forgotten in his pocket.

— 

Being a light sleeper has a downside to it, and Bokuto hated nothing more than getting his sleep disrupted. He wakes up to the slighest movement and sounds: door creaking when his sisters fail to secretly sneak into his room to _borrow_ a shirt, the vinyl his mom plays on Sunday mornings, the pitter-patter of rain through the roof and on his window, and the occasional bursts of thunder he fears, so he ends up ducked into the little space between his cabinet and bed.

It has its perks though. It's something he's relied on to whenever he's exhausted and couldn't afford to be late the next day. Not that he's gonna nag about it—he loved playing volleyball more than anything, except trainings become harsher during the season of Olympics, and for an ace like him, he made it a habit to stay professional. Their punishments aren't extreme to say the least—years of being in the field gave him the strength to endure twice as much, but he also didn't want to hear anything about being given special treatment. Also, he just really didn't like the idea of having to run 15 laps around a huge court among other things.

He's been spending the past 30 minutes trying to get back to sleep, rolling from one side of the bed to another, only to fix the wrinkled sheets because he didn't like the way it gathers into his skin; lost count of the sheep he had on his imaginary farm; and even went as far as playing rock, paper, and scissors with himself in front of a mirror he hung up on the left corner of his bed. To say he was bored out of his mind was an understatement; if this episode goes on for the next hour, he'd probably just knock himself out— _literally_ —and call it a night.

After an awful lot of attempts in dozing back off, only the thought of ringing Akaashi retained in his mind. He would probably get a beating if he ever dials him without a head's up, also the fact that it's 4 AM in the morning and his best friend must still be sound asleep by now— _he wouldn't want to be scolded by a grouchy Akaashi_ , he finds him scary—so he somehow drops the idea... or pushes himself to, because the owl still found himself pressing the raven-haired's name in his contacts, with a message that says:

_hey!! u awake ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ_

If Bokuto is gonna have an earful either way, he thinks it's better if he gives it a shot. It wouldn't make much of a difference, and he was fine with hearing Akaashi ramble about how he never listens at how he could have texted first, or how he's actually too stubborn, doing just as he pleases. Because after all those, he would still feel the younger sigh in the middle of the call—he's not one for much talking, but it was enough to let the golden-eyed know he was listening. Sometimes Bokuto would intentionally say something stupid just to have the ravenette comment snarky remarks he never really meant, and they'd both laugh. 

Not even more than a minute after he sends the message, his phone vibrates and a notification of an incoming call from Akaashi flashes through the screen. _This is new_ , but he puts aside the thought when he was greeted by an infuriated Akaashi and slurry words which weren't hard to comprehend, but still piqued the owl's interest.

"Are you out of your mind?" a groan and, "Who calls this early in the fucking morning,"

This doesn't match his sleepy voice. Then was he drinking? He rarely does though, but a drunken Akaashi is brimming with confidence that words absent-mindedly leave his mouth.

"What do you mean?" the older stifles a laugh. "Are you drunk?"

He didn't really have to ask. Bokuto already knows the answer when the younger hissed and cursed under his breath, blatantly ignoring the question. Or maybe he didn't hear it. The sound of a beer can being crumpled only raised his suspicion more, almost enough to confirm it, yet curiosity gets the better of him at times and now he isn't anything but excited at how this conversation will go, especially when Akaashi doesn't even recognize his own best friend.

"You _really_ must be imagining things! My name is Keiji, not drunk, you idiot." he could make out the rolling of his eyes, "And where did you get my number? Creep,"

_Ah, now he's talking._

A smile tugs on the edge of Bokuto's lips, silent but on the verge of laughter. Akaashi neither shows emotions often nor does he speak much. He was always on the cold side, prefers to be a listener than a storyteller, would rather observe than make the experience. Being best friends since high school, though, the frosted tipped was sure he knew Akaashi best—from the shifts of his stoic expression to somewhat anxious, fingers dancing at the fabric of his uniform he tries to keep still, even his obliviousness to the pout his lips will make every time he asks for a favour— _who could resist those, though?_ , to how much the raven boy loved the stars, yet all Bokuto wants is to connect the constellations dotting his eyes.

"Excuse me?" Bokuto feigns offense, "You were actually the one who called me."

"What makes you think I'd call you?" Akaashi lowers down his brows, "Stupid stranger."

So much for Bokuto trying to hold back his snickers only to give in. _Who was he talking to?_ If he were half as drunk as Akaashi, the frosted tipped could probably convince himself it was just a stranger who happened to sound exactly like his best friend, that he was just hallucinating. He's not even sure if he'd wind up on a phone call with anyone because he's possibly passed out then.

"I get called stupid a lot," Bokuto doesn't hide the amusement in his voice. "But I actually can't go back to sleep so would you like for us to talk a bit?"

Comes another groan, "Don't toy with me!"

It's like his best friend was possessed by a different person—or so he'd like to believe, because Akaashi isn't the type to be so careless with his words, and he surely never speaks in such tone.

Bokuto puts a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking from trying and failing to make a sound. There's no way he was gonna let this end so easily—a carefree Akaashi is a sight to behold, and Bokuto must be God's favourite to be given the chance. Maybe he'll wind up getting on his nerves, maybe the rustic haired will realize it was Bokuto he was talking to all this while, but the owl was enjoying himself and was ready for all the punching and kicking he'd probably get if he so much as mentions this to Akaashi later this afternoon.

"You're _so_ grumpy, no wonder you're still single." This time, Bokuto sits upright in his bed, reaching for the owl plushie almost a third of his height—a gift Akaashi got for him on his birthday, which he was grateful for–not because he’s been eyeing it since the day it came out, but because _Akaashi noticed_ , along with a letter he still keeps in his drawer–and hugs it to his chest. "Come on, just tell me anything. I won't tell anyone, I promise."

A little more push is all Bokuto does before he finally succeeds. Akaashi gives in, sighing silently—a heavy one, as if threatening to burst, "Get off, really." then pauses for a moment, heaving out a deep breath. "Anyway, stranger... can you, uh, maybe give me an advice?" the way Akaashi rubs his face is audible on the other end of the line. "This should stay between us though. I just don't have anyone to talk about this with."

"And here I thought I was stupid!"

Bokuto was almost offended, but keeps in mind that Akaashi has a good reason to say that. It's probably something he would like to sort out himself, but regardless, he'll find out along the way. Or not. He's starting to feel guilty having to pretend he's a stranger; they're best friends, goodness, and even if he's eager to know why, isn't this going a bit far?

"Uh, Keiji, hey? It's Kou—"

"I don't care who you are. Just _please_ ," his voice shakes at the last word, almost sounding desperate. Just how bad is it that he had to vent out to a stranger? It was frustration tinged with annoyance, Bokuto doesn't understand what he was so upset about. "Why are feelings so complex, damn it." Bokuto doesn't respond, not that Akaash was waiting for one anyway. "So there's this... um, person,"

 _A person?_ Bokuto feels his heart shrink to his stomach if that were even possible—the pang in his chest accompanies the lump in his throat, drying every thought out. His impossibly bright smile turned sour, eventually becoming ragged breathing and a knotted forehead. He internally scolds himself, _this is no time to be silly_ , knowing he can't make everything about him when it comes to Akaashi.

"I don't wanna be friends with them anymore."

_Huh?_ Bokuto was confused, this certainly wasn't the direction he was aiming for. He wonders who it might be though. _It can't possibly be him, right?_

"Why... why not? Did something happen?" Bokuto queried, ever curious eyes anticipating his reply.

"Nothing, really." Not-even-there breaths pierce through the screen, voice sounding a little tight. "Just feels wrong to fall in love with a friend, after all."

"Not at all?!" which came out like a shout, borderline defensive. "Sorry, go on."

"And this person, God, they're like my—my stress inducer and stress reliever at the same time. It's about to drive me nuts."

Bokuto wanted to say _it already is_ but saves it for another time. "You sure like her lots, huh?" It was more a statement than a question, and Akaashi was nowhere near being a pushover, so for someone to occupy his head this much, he must be into them than he would admit.

The raven boy forces out a scoff, and his next words freeze Bokuto right on the spot. "It's actually a _him_. I'm talking about a man."

Along with Bokuto's widening eyes was his mouth shaping into a small circle, phone pressed firmly to his shirt then he places it back up to his ear, parroting the word, _"him?"_ and an almost regretful, _"You're actually into guys?"_

Never has it crossed the older's mind that Akaashi took interest in stuff like relationships, let alone love. He didn't heed any interest in anyone—he's never seen Akaashi pay any particular attention to those he interacted with, at least. They practically grew up together so he would know, before anyone, if someone has already worked their way through Akaashi's heart, right? Very much so when he's cooing over them like this.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind." it was impossible that Akaashi would miss the baffled tone of his voice, "I just really needed to let this out."

Bokuto found himself nodding in the dark, as if Akaashi was there just in front of him. It still sends him shivers every time Bokuto thinks someone turned Akaashi into this mess; just how much power does he hold against him?

"God, I don't even know where to start. It's just coming to me all at once and... and I hate myself for it,"

Bokuto wants to both thank and curse the heavens for this night. He was beyond grateful and thrilled over the fact that Akaashi's into men, that maybe he stood a chance after all, but why did he have to put up with the biggest misfortune of listening to him pour his feelings out for the person he likes? While pretending as a stranger, at that.

"Then tell me how you two met?" 

Maybe this could give him hints about the person Akaashi likes, and maybe he could help him get his feelings through. The latter idea ticked him off for some reason, and knowing himself, he'd choose to forget. Not that he doesn't take any of this seriously, and it was selfish of him, but he just can't stand losing his best friend for another man right now.

"Oh," the younger's chuckle was still audible in the faint rustles of wind somehow, and Bokuto felt his chest lighten. "We're teammates. He was this loud guy with a big built so he really stood out, you know?"

There was a brief pause. Bokuto thinks it's the ravenette's way of asking permission to speak up, so he hums, and Akashi continues. 

"It wasn't really my plan to... to join first," he was biting his nails, for sure. Bokuto smiles. "Oh, it's volleyball! You know, when you watch him play you'll really get this urge to set for him. At least that's how I felt. I wanted him to spike the ball I'd toss in his direction. _He was a star._ It's such an embarrassing reason to be in the club, but we ended up being close friends. It was more than I could ask for."

Now he's getting a vague image of who it could possibly be. He knows people who match Akaashi's description, but maybe with a few more information he could identify the guy; so he urges him still, more to satisfy his curiosity than concerned.

"He'll wait for me to come home together, too. Did I say I don't like talkative people? He was one of them, but for the first time, I didn't mind. Something about him is radiant, _he was comfortable_. He was the team's ace and he calls me his favorite setter." 

Bokuto's lips curve up on the corners and a soft melody of snicker escape Akaashi's lips. He wanted to tell him he loves him right that moment, but he bites back his tongue.

"See, he's like the biggest headache I've had to deal with. But also one I wouldn't mind having. He's everything child-like... with the mood swings and tantrums—everything. He could go from this enthusiastic ball of energy to this little kid crying for his mom. He doesn't really talk much about why though, so I guess it was just natural instinct to study him. Then I learned what cheers him up. Now he calls himself a normal ace."

 _Oh._ Bokuto’s heart soars, and his cheeks already hurt from grinning. He goes on a roll in the bed, face buried on a pillow to muffle his screams. 

_Oh._ As if his thoughts were a ship trying to get through tidal waves that were his mind, it finally sunk into him.

"He's the most amazing person I know. Everyone says he's stupid, but that's a lie! When everyone's worn out, the thing he says start making sense. He's actually pretty wise," Akaashi's voice rode on the wind like it's where they belong, _"And he's actually really pretty, too."_

"Really?"

"Yeah, yeah," he pictures Akaashi waving a hand, a habit he's developed in avoiding a conversation so he doesn't push it. "He's so confident, too, you know? But he could also go from overconfidence to none at all in a second. And it's why I hate seeing him down. Like he's so fucking good, the best even. Everyone adores him. Even I do."

"Oh, you do?"

"Yeah, that dummy." Bokuto hugs his knees and pouts. "He thinks so little of himself sometimes and I just want to, I don't know, maybe keep him between my arms? I want—I _need_ to tell him how he's more than enough, but I don't want him to make fun of me or something."

"I don't think he will, though?" he frowns, a bit miffed that Akaashi would even think of him doing that. Despite being praised for his skills, it still feels different coming from Akaashi. Maybe because he was never really vocal about caring this much. "I think he'd appreciate it."

"I guess I'll do that... when it's less embarrassing, mhm, perhaps." a moment of silence, and Akaashi giggles. "He's also protective, you know? He takes care of me a lot. Back when we played, he'd ask for breaks when he notices my fingers quivering. He'd steal glances every now and then to make sure I was getting along with the others just fine, too. Now he'd check up on my work when he's free."

A smile stretches across Bokuto’s lips, "How pretty do you think he is?"

"He'd give the sun a run for its money," Akaashi says that so delicately, Bokuto's heart swells up, fist balled right to his chest. "He has this sunshine smile that's so impossibly bright. Every single thing about his face is beautiful, _so gorgeously beautiful_ I'm not even sure where to start."

"Take your time."

"His lips... they're so kissable. I think he uses chapstick but they're naturally plump red and glossy and—and whenever he smiles? It's impossible not to fall for it. I—I want to kiss him, even just once would be okay. But I don't want to cross boundaries either."

Akaashi lets out what seems to be a gasp—one almost snatching his breath away, which was familiar to Bokuto, not because he knew what every sigh of his meant, but because it came out from his very lips one too many times.

"Then his hair... kind of weird, but I think he styles it with gel or whatever they call it." His voice sounded so soft, Bokuto realizes just how fragile he is. "Sometimes I get this urge to play with his hair and when I do, it feels like running your fingers through a cotton candy. I try not to do it often though, by clenching my fists. Then he asks if I'm angry."  
Beads of tears wet Bokuto's eyes from hysterically laughing, slowly and finally understanding where Akaashi was coming from. 

Then he shrugs, not knowing whether he wants to sit still and just let Akaashi shower him with compliments—which was rare because he can’t even get the guy to say he’s funny—or run up to the windows, wake the whole neighbourhood up because, well, _Akaashi Keiji called him pretty._

"His eyes, God forbid those eyes. They're golden. They're yellow and honest and you know when he gets everyone's attention? His face lights up and it's as if they hold galaxies and beyond in them. It's so clear, like they swallowed an ocean, you know? I'd drown myself in them anytime and come back only to do it once more."

Bokuto changes positions, now laying on his arms with a devious grin plastered on his lips. His tongue was itching to roll the words off his mouth, to speak his mind.

"When did you start loving him?"

Akaashi doesn't respond. Bokuto waits for another minute, only the sound of dead air filling the other line. He doesn't want to pressure him so he just hums, letting the younger know he was still there.

"Fifteen," Bokuto would've missed it if he weren't paying attention. " _I was fifteen and young and in love_. Or it was infatuation? Whatever." his voice was solemn and fond, "I think I've denied it all those while. I mean he was the only person I've looked at to that time. But then years passed and I started seeing him differently."

 _Oh, my._ Things are finally falling into places like bricks on a wall. _So that was why_. He remembers it was a few weeks away from Akaashi's birthday when he stopped going to practices with him, insisting that he would make it up the next month, and every time he tries to push him into talking, he's met with a waving hand and a something-urgent-came-up of an excuse.

"You know, it felt terrible. Whenever I avoid him, especially when I do the things we normally do together with someone else, there's this sort of an... upset? I guess, look on his face. The pain was so physical. Then two years passed and I can't even look him in the eye. _I was seventeen and scared, what if he sees through me?"_

With the way Akaashi's voice trembles, Bokuto can't bring himself to blame him. He was still this seventeen-year-old boy who shied away from his feelings and was afraid of losing a friend. But he was no longer oblivious about how Akaashi felt towards him, he wasn't the same Bokuto who held back for friendship's sake—now he's more of a man than he ever was, and _he was all ready to be loved by Akaashi Keiji._

"Why don't you tell all these to him yourself?"

"And what," Akaashi snorts, albeit mockingly, which Bokuto catches. "Make a fool of myself? Goodness, how do you even tell your best friend you're in love with them?"

"What's his name again?"

"Koutaro. Bokuto Koutaro. You probably see his name on magazines, huh?"

"Damn right, that better be me."

"Oh my God," a few more seconds before things finally register on Akaashi's mind. "Oh, no. Hell no. This... is this...?" the raven boy can't even finish a sentence, trailing off just before he could mutter out his name.

"I'm coming over." was the last thing Bokuto said before he heard a click, and it was all quiet after that, and Bokuto guesses his friend hung up. 

He hurries down, half running and jumping because after years of thinking it was unrequited, it only takes one drunken night for Akaashi to admit his feelings. Bokuto was fidgety on his nerves, the only thought going on his mind was that their feelings are mutual, yet it was enough to get him walk past two blocks down. Now he's in front of Akaashi's flat, with nothing but courage; he knocks anyway.

"Oh, my God. Please leave." Alcohol must've slowed his reflexes down, because even before Akaashi could shut the door close, Bokuto was already grabbing him by the arm. And when they both stumble a little, falling on the floor just inches away from the entrance, their reaction, as per usual, is to laugh it off.

 _Maybe he should play it cool,_ Bokuto was torn, or _maybe he should ask him out._

But what if Akaashi doesn't remember?

"Why didn’t you tell me?" his voice shifted from confused to gravely serious, yet Akaashi could tell it's not the least bit angry.

"Tell you what?" Akaashi pretends not to know, but the flushed cheeks—Bokuto wasn't sure if it's because of him or the beer—and wandering eyes that lands anywhere except the other's face, give him away.

Bokuto scrunches his nose at how Akaashi smelled unfamiliar; he was used to his fresh pinewood after a rainy day kind of scent, with a bit of crisp morning air. "That you like me."

Akaashi would never let his guard down, almost as if confessing would mean losing. Bokuto doesn't back off either, persistent to hear the words directly from the younger's mouth, no matter how long it takes. Is he really gonna let this one chance—if things ever get awkward—at love slip away just like that? Definitely not, so he toughens his resolve, golden hues meeting gunmetal blues, fully aware that his face is painted the same crimson red as the one in front of him by now.

"Well, now you know about it."

"Say it."

"You're just making fun of me!"

"No? I like you a lot, too!"

The next thing Bokuto knows, they were at the front of Akaashi's bedroom, lips locked hungrily, years spent by restraining themselves only drove them begging for more. They both open their mouth, and Bokuto savours the alcohol that lingered in Akaashi’s mouth—bitter, but the kiss was sweet, nonetheless, though it could've gone better for their first one, and now it's like he was getting drunk from his kisses and not from the alcohol.

And then they halt just in front of his makeshift bed, foreheads pressed together. Bokuto suddenly felt very affectionate, probably because Akaashi looked beautiful even in the dim light of the bedroom, also with all the touching—calloused fingers mapping out the older's digits, and a hand tugging onto his sleeve. He was so safe and warm, so he plants soft kisses all over his face, hoping the silent message gets across to him somehow.

"I love you, Koutaro."

Akaashi collapses after that. Bokuto squats, elbow on his knees and palm on his cheek, leaning towards to press a small kiss on his forehead then covers the raven boy with a blanket.

—

  
Akaashi wakes up to a throbbing head in distressed headache, pulling his own hair which made him feel regretful afterward, shrieking at the worsening pain, so he rolls over to the side, and boy does he have such bad luck today to even fall off his own bed.

"Are you okay?! What happened? Does it hurt?" the door swung open, revealing a huffing Bokuto, still slightly sleepy with his hair sticking to his forehead.  
It was only then that the scent of bacon and egg clung to the air and Akaashi was guessing—more like observing, with the spatula Bokuto was holding with his hand—that it was from his cooking, so he purses his lips to organize his thoughts.

"Why... okay, hold on. What are you doing here?"

"Oh," Bokuto just gives him a grin that stretches from ear-to-ear. "You don't remember what happened earlier?"

"Most parts are still vague. I remember drinking though."

"Alright! Time to wrap things up, I guess." Bokuto points the spatula at him, and within the next few seconds wanted nothing more than to be buried alive. "You said you wanted to stop being friends."

"Huh, what? Why would I say that—" 

Bokuto cuts him off mid-sentence, panic still evident in his face. Akaashi was afraid this is where their friendship has come to an end, but he wasn't so sure because why else would the owl still be cooking for him? Unless it has poison, but no, Bokuto was too soft to think about such a thing.

"I was wondering, too." there was something playful in Bokuto's expression as if teasing. "But then you asked me how to tell your best friend you're in love with them."

Akaashi blinks. If this was an ordinary conversation, he would've thought Bokuto was pulling some kind of joke. Then it would get dull. But maybe fate has its funny way of showing how muddled thoughts shape onto desire for brutal honesty. He wants to stop denying himself of things, of feelings even just for today.

"I love you, Keiji."

Akaashi doesn't move, doesn't respond. He must've been hearing things, because his best friend, Bokuto Koutaro, did not just say he loves him, right? Or if he does, it must be platonic.

"If this is a prank, you're not being funny." 

There's no way Bokuto is in love with _him,_ of all people.  
"I've been in love with you for almost a decade now, Akaashi. I thought I was fine just being the best friend, but you gave me a spark of hope last night and you're calling me a liar?" 

Bokuto looks so elated, and his laugh sounds fuller than it’s ever been. So Akaashi does, too. Bokuto looks so beautiful, along the fluctuations of his moods—nothing more, nothing less.

"If you're screwing with me, I swear to God, you're never stepping foot in my flat again."

It's like a reflex for him to deny himself of good things—in this case, Bokuto returning his feelings—and a mouth that works faster than his head isn't a good pair with it, so he says things he meant otherwise.

"I'm not. I'm telling you _I love you_."

A soft flick on the forehead and they sink into the mattress in no time. The pillow splutters in front of Bokuto, but he removes them without much effort—he was the stronger one, after all.

"Earlier you told me you love me, too. Say it again."

It’s as if Bokuto was clinging to his words for his dear life, eyes gleaming with ardor as he drew his face near to where Akaashi's head was. Bokuto smiles, pinches the bridge of the rustic haired's nose and wiggles his eyebrows as if nudging him to say those very words.

"I'm leaving."

"I thought you said liquor tastes gross." Bokuto keeps him laid on the bed, arms draped around his waist.

"It is."

"You still find it disgusting?"

"Hell yeah, I do."

He sat there in comfortable silence, with Bokuto asking questions from time to time. His mind was full, trying to find the words to say but somehow he was at a loss.  
"Do you love me?" Bokuto expectantly asks, and Akaashi answers before the question settles on his mind.

"I love you so."

Bokuto triumphantly screams, catching him off guard. He throws a blanket over his body, and Bokuto, well, the mattress shifts and now they're both under the blanket, their lips almost touching.

"Let's eat breakfast?"

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! and belated happy valentine's day <3 here's some fluff because angst have finally taken over my system (feels weird to write this ngl). i hope we all fall in love the way bokuaka are with each other!!


End file.
